Kissing Day at Skyhold
by GuileandGall
Summary: The Hawke family didn't celebrate many holidays, but there is one Kirkwall festival that's always held a special place for Aderyn … Kissing Day.


**Summary:** The Hawke family didn't celebrate many holidays, but there is one Kirkwall festival that's always held a special place for Aderyn … Kissing Day.

 **a/n:** This was inspired by a wonderful prompt from thesecondsealwrites. She sent a nice little suggestion: _From the types of kisses prompt lists: stay in bed kisses, mischievous and deep, punctuating flirtatiously whispered bargaining words. OTP of your choice._ I really appreciated it. I tried it with a few different pairings, before this just happened. Thank you again for the prompt, and hope you enjoy one Hawke's quiet celebration of this holiday.

 **Kissing Day at Skyhold**

The sun crept into the room slowly, like a thief intent on making off with the comfortable slumber of a loving couple. The twitter of birds waking in Skyhold's gardens slipped into the room on the swirling breezes that fluttered the leaves of the creeping ivy that invaded through the wide-open gouge in the roof.

Aderyn watched the sunlight shift through the dancing leaves, which made them glow in vibrant shades of green. She had no desire to move, no reason to climb out of her lover's embrace and welcome the day. At that moment, she was perfectly content to remain lazy and relaxed. For she knew it would end soon enough.

Using his thick arm as a pillow, their legs still entwined from the post-coital cuddling that lulled them to sleep in the dark of night. The shift of his leg along hers brought a smile to her lips and a soft thrum hung in her throat. The sun cast its light through the gaping hole in the ceiling. She only spared a single moment of thought for why this feature of her lover's quarters had yet to be repaired. Her attention turned to the progress of the light on the wall opposite.

 _Two rows of brick_ , she thought.

Once the sun rose high enough in the sky that it shone upon two full rows of dingy gray stone, then Cullen would stir. He possessed the most precise internal clock she ever encountered. Much like her father Malcolm, Cullen Rutherford was an early riser and could be a cheerful sod when circumstances allowed it. In most people it annoyed her, but she adored that trait in him. Seeing his smile first thing in the morning always made the day a little easier to bare.

The light moved slowly that morning. Its pace and her mind tormented her with ideas that left her skin tingling with the remnants of thoughts and memories of both soft and passionate sunrise exchanges with her love. But, of course, today wasn't just any morning.

Over the years in Kirkwall, she'd become quite a proponent of one if its more innocuous, though well-celebrated, holidays. Many decried Kissing Day as a bawdy, materialistic display, though their comments usually fell on deaf ears. Aderyn viewed it in another light entirely. Perhaps because she was unable to openly display affection for the man she loved when she lived in the city.

This would be the first time she'd get to celebrate that day with in him the open, freely, with no fear of who might catch the former templar kissing a known mage, an apostate. The genteel smile on her lips widened at the thought, then spread even further as Cullen shifted.

 _Sure enough. Two rows_ , she confirmed with a quick shift of her gaze.

The arm pinned beneath her head, curled around her shoulder and his other hand skimmed across her stomach as he groaned softly. A tender kiss pressed against her temple; his lips lingered lingering there, warm but a little rough against her skin.

"Good morning, love," she whispered, turning her head toward the touch of his lips.

"And to you, my dear." His voice held a trace of his smile. As she rolled onto her side to face him, Cullen squeezed her tight. "Did you not sleep well?" he asked. He knew her too well, and she was almost never awake before him. Calloused fingers brushed fiery red curls away from her face as he studied her countenance.

"Perfectly well," she said. Her answer wiped the furrow of worry from his brow.

"Then why are you the first awake?"

"You don't remember what today is, do you?" His amber eyes narrowed and Aderyn was certain he was running through a mental list of every significant date in their relationship. As the silence stretched, she finally chuckled and offered him a trace of mercy. "I'll give you a hint."

With that, she set her hand on his cheek and brushed his lips with her own in a way that was so gentle as to be nearly ethereal. Her gesture, meant to spark memory, went further in delicate, refined increments. Her mouth moved more firmly against his; her tongue peeked out to trace his lips in a silent request. When his lips parted, the kiss deepened and left him groaning into her mouth.

All the while, Cullen's comfortable embrace, which had cradled her close, pulled her body ever tighter against his. One hand supported the back of her head in an effort to discourage an end to the passionate display. His other hand slid along every curve of her, which he knew so well, encouraging Aderyn to extend her reminder until the quick little gasps of breath they managed to steal here and there proved not to be enough.

Short of breath, she pressed her forehead against Cullen's once the kiss broke. "Now, do you recall?" she asked with glee brightening her tone.

"If I say I don't know, will you kiss me like that again?" His lips pulled into a wide grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"For that, you don't have to say anything." Her laughter was quickly muffled as their lips met again.

The gentle breeze whispering through the room was drowned out by the soft, amorous hums and growls of the lovers' passion. Cullen rolled onto his back, pulling Aderyn atop him. It allowed his hands to roam her bare skin far more freely, which she never would seek an argument against.

"You still don't know?" she asked, propping herself up on crossed arms that lay across his broad chest.

"I know all the things today is not," he said. His fingered traced the curve of her rear from the small of her back, downward, and back again.

Aderyn gasped at him in feigned indignation and pinched him on the nipple in punishment. He replied with a pinch of his own that left her squirming atop him until he embraced her tight again. Again, she stilled, balanced atop him, her body and limbs balanced precisely atop his, with giggles still upon her lips.

"You forgot my favorite holiday?" she accused, giving him a glare of mock upset.

"It is not Kissing Day," he corrected, flipping her onto her back and covering her with himself. Leaning on his elbows, he loomed over her. "It's three days hence."

Aderyn tipped her head back in laughter. "Cullen, my love. It's not on the twelfth this year." She laid her hands on either side of his neck. "It's the _day_ , not the date."

Cullen didn't argue; he just kissed her again. "It was far easier to keep track of in Kirkwall."

"That's because everything in the city was draped in red or painted with hearts and puckered lips." She blew a quick kiss at him as a demonstration.

His smile warmed her heart. It was so relaxed, and the way it lit his amber eyes took her breath away. She couldn't remember the last time he seemed so carefree. He nudged her nose upward with his in order to achieve better access to her mouth. Draping one arm over his shoulder, the fingers of her other hand grazed his cheeks and his brow as he kissed her. Aderyn could imagine not greater start to this holiday—save one.

Their lips lingered; fingertips savored the familiar dips and contours of one another's bodies as the sun crept higher in the mountain sky. The clang of steel could be heard above the birdsong now. Aderyn clung to Cullen, knowing full well exactly which choruses of Skyhold would pull him from her embrace.

His lips brushed hers in languid pecks, far shallower than she would have preferred. This signal she knew all too well. He would pull away soon, called from the warmth of her embrace, of her body, by duty. Even dropping the mantle of templar didn't preclude their separations, though his service as commander of the Inquisition's troops didn't require the kind of absolute distance that existed between them in Kirkwall, or Lothering before that. In Kirkwall, an unveiled look could have doomed them both. In public, every look and every word were strictly guarded.

Here though, at Skyhold, that kind of separation was rarer. There were times when they would catch one another's lingering gaze from across the courtyard, and an exchange that would have ended in cold aloofness just months earlier, usually concluded with soft smiles brimming with promises for later. There were no worries about the cost of a blatant touch of the hand. Aderyn had come to adore sunsets here in an all new way—with Cullen at her back, his arms around her, his lips brushing her ear with whispers of how no sunset could compare to her.

In bed, he shifted his weight to one side as he brushed his fingers over her red-gold curls. The look in his eyes became distant and forlorn, as if he was trying to find the right farewell before climbing out of bed.

"Don't go," she said before he could settle on his words.

"Aderyn." He spoke her name with the same kind of softness he used to answer the same request with in the wee morning hours in Kirkwall after those rare evening when they could steal time together. It was consoling, but held a scolding hint beneath the surface—as if to remind them both of the consequences of such indulgences.

"One day," she started. When his lips thinned, Aderyn acquiesced. "One morning, then. Surely that can't be too much to ask."

"I adore you—"

"But," Aderyn said before he could.

Cullen stared down at her and sighed through his nose. "I have a duty."

With a sigh of her own Aderyn let her hands drop to the mattress. "I'm all too aware." With a heavy dose of petulance, she sighed again and glanced past his shoulder toward the leaves near the hole in the ceiling. "Duty, honor, sacrifice, and all that nonsense." She could feel the pout on her lips. "Just this once—"

Cullen pressed his index finger to her lips. "You always say that."

"And how often does it work?" she countered despite his finger.

"More often than once," he reminded, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"But not this time?" The pouting returned, even dipping into the tone of her melodic voice.

"You seem determined to think so, but have I moved?" he challenged. He brushed his fingers over her forehead as he traced her brow line.

This brought a hopeful smile to her lips, which widened his.

"But I will have to leave long enough to notify your brother that he's on his own with the training today."

"Must you write it now?" she asked, as her hands snaked across his shoulders once more.

"Seems like it might be best."

Her lips brushed his. "Could it wait a bit. In a while, I'll have to retrieve your surprise from the kitchens. You can write it then," she said between soft, playful kisses.

Cullen pulled away slightly. "What kind of surprise?"

"That chocolate almond pear cake of my mother's that you love so much."

"You shared that recipe with the cooks?"

"Of course," she said, leaning up to press a kiss upon his mouth. "How could I not? Especially today."

"Aderyn, I love you," he said with a soft laugh and an appreciative smile. "Even when you pout," he added against her mouth.

Any argument she might have made faded away as Cullen's kiss deepened quickly. Aderyn pulled him closer, her leg skimming his hip and hooking over it. She was bound and determined to spend as much of this holiday right there, wrapped up in the sheets with him. They'd never been able to spend a Kissing Day thus, though she hoped it might well become a new tradition for them.


End file.
